When at first you don’t succeed

Try again.

And, yes, again.

It sounds so much like a cliché and perhaps it is, but not trying is worse than failing. We only learn from our mistakes, from those trials and errors along the way. Not doing anything, not even trying, keeps us in place – stuck.

When I feel stuck, I tend to go on a journey. I once left home for 10 years because I needed to know what else there is in life. I found my answers. And myself.

I returned not quite home, but somewhere else to build a new life as this new version of myself I had grown into.

But I digress.

I still feel stuck sometimes. In life, with my work, with my writing, sometimes even with my friendships. Whenever I feel stuck in one way or another, something needs to be done. During a pandemic, travelling is rather not an option. Which is a shame because it really helps. Not because I am running away from something or towards something, but because I am more myself when I am travelling than sitting on my sofa.

So, lately, I have needed to find other ways of handling things. Since moving helps, I may go on a walk or cycle through the city if the weather allows for it.

Whilst showers make me feel better, they don’t help with runaway thoughts. Cooking doesn’t help either and if it’s really bad, I can’t even eat what I cooked.

Writing helps.

Music too.

What’s the takeaway here? Whatever it is you need to succeed at or need to at least try, you first need to figure out what works for you.

Sometimes last-minute panic is the way to go. Sometimes careful planning. And every once in a while, a leap of faith.

Whatever your goal is, as you long as you keep working your way towards it, it doesn’t matter how many times you stumble and fall and fail. It matters only that you get up and continue – perhaps not right away, but eventually.

There is no shame in failing. There is also no shame in not trying. There may be regret, though.

When I announced to all my family and friends that I would go and travel the world, a lot of people called me brave. Nearly everyone told me they would never dare such a thing.

For me, it was a simple necessity. It was the only path I wanted to take, and I never considered myself brave for taking it. I still don’t. I know it was the right thing to do and I know I would have regretted not going.

I might tell you one day about the many times I fell and failed. But I always got up and continued onwards. And I always will.

The Empty Page

Where do you begin when you have a million thoughts running through your mind, dozens of ideas, no thread to follow? There are so many things I want to write about. But I have to start somewhere.

So, I am starting here. With the challenge itself. To begin writing.

The empty page can be daunting. What to do with it? Which word to put first? Which ones should follow? Will I make a fool of myself when I put this ‘out there’?

But everything that stops us is merely in our heads. As is so often the case, we’re our own worst enemies. Nobody can stop us. Nobody ever truly has the power to stop us. Unless, we give it to them. But that’s on us.

The only one stopping us is us. The empty page just sits there. That it is waiting for us to put words down is merely our projection. We are waiting to put words down. We usually just don’t know where to begin.

Never mind that, though. Just get started. I am committed to this new project, which means I have to regularly post new content. Or, at least, re-post content I’ve written before.

That is a lot of work. I mean a lot. And that, too, is a daunting prospect.

But I am also looking forward to all of it and I am no longer afraid of the empty page. There will always be words ready to flow. Whether they are the ones I wanted to put down or not doesn’t even matter. Anything I write is good (not qualitatively speaking, mind you, but for the mere fact of having written anything at all).

Writing is good. It’s life. My life anyway.

As is riding. My motorbike. But more on that elsewhere 😉

Why write?

It’s probably the first question you need to ask yourself. Or in this case, I am asking myself. Why do I write? Why do I feel the need to? Why does it seem to be the only thing that helps sometimes?

Anyone creatively inclined will have their thing… the thing they cannot live without. Have to pursue. Must do. Music, painting, drawing, sculpting, knitting, baking… make something… out of words, sounds, paint, clay or whatever materials are at hand.

The question should obviously be: why make art? Why follow any creative pursuit?

I use words. Always have. I have loved the written word… stories, really… since I first heard them and later learned to read them. And it wasn’t a big step to start making stories up myself and eventually to write them down. I’ve always had an overactive imagination. I’m an introvert. Most things happen inside of me before they are expressed outwardly if I let them out at all.

The answer is: just because…

There is no better answer. It’s part of human nature to create. To make things. We’re also incredibly adept at destroying things. But we do get to make things and have done since the dawn of time. It’s one way for us to express ourselves. And a way to ask questions, perhaps to attempt answers.

If there’s something you cannot live without, it’s worth keeping. That is true whether you create something, pursue any kind of sports or love someone.

It doesn’t matter if you’re doing it professionally or simply as a hobby. If you must write, then write. If you must run, then run. If you love someone, see if you can keep them around.

It’s what makes life worth living. It’s what makes life matter.

That’s the only answer I have. For me, it’s good enough.

Originally published on the 19th July 2018.

7 years, 3 months and 15 days ago

That’s when I should’ve started this blog. I could’ve started it 8 years ago, when I first planned my Big Trip. I definitely meant to start it at some point.

Well, I’m ready now.

Unfortunately this means that I have a lot to catch up on. I mean a lot. It needn’t be so bad, but I decided to start at the beginning. And I will include photos, because I have about 10,000 of them. Fear not, though, I won’t post all 10,000 of them. Only a selection with every post as suitable.

I considered using a dedicated travel blog, but I want something that is uniquely me, not something generic where I can chose the layout, font or even background colours.

Eventually I may take even more creative control, depending on how this goes. I have an idea of my ideal travel blog; I’ll see what I can do with the chosen layout and theme for now.

I’m actually excited about this. It’s been a long time coming. I will reach back right to the beginning of my trip. It’s been quite a journey and this blog will get personal sometimes, whenever I want it to be. But I will stay on topic, this is going to be a dedicated travel blog.

I’ve chosen the title for it from a Richard Bach novel of the very same title. I’ve written about it on my regular blog of randomness, not the novel, but why I always end up running from safety. I’ve mentioned it here and there.

Anyhow, I very much hope that you’ll enjoy hearing about my past, present and future travels. At least I am not forcing you to sit through a lengthy tale I’m telling you. You’ll be reading this, because you want to know more.

So, thanks for stopping by and happy trails.

Always following the sun
Always following the sun

Originally published on the 21 October 2013